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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446683">Fear Unknown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics'>justheretoreadhannibalfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>After the Fall, Changing POVs, Cute, Fluff, I mean, Jealous, M/M, Murder Husband, One Shot, Post Fall, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, if you can call death threats fluff, it's sort of cute, jealous!Will, the way he does it, will is a salty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bedelia had been recovering from her ordeal, and had felt somewhat secure in her life after near death. Her false sense of security was shattered when she received a call from the one person she feared more than Hannibal Lecter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hannibal One Shots</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fear Unknown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doctor Du Maurier sipped her wine, keeping her fingers still despite the urge to tap them nervously against her thigh. She had never been prone to anxious tics before escaping Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. It felt as if she had been repressing every hint of fear for so long that now they wanted to escape in whatever avenue was available.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men had been able to see any sign of weakness and exploit it. She truly believed the only reason she had survived them both was by learning to hide her fears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When her phone rang, she didn’t jump. A long time ago, a sudden sound breaking the silence would have startled her. She had grown past that, or perhaps had become desensitized to it. Now, she just sighed and took a swallow of her wine before she answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” she said, keeping her tone perfectly even and calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening, Bedelia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia froze, her hand trembling slightly and causing small ripples in the dark liquid of her wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That voice was one she actually feared more than she ever had Hannibal’s. She had known with relative certainty what Hannibal Lecter would do at any given point, especially if she managed to keep herself from being a threat. Will Graham had never given her that luxury. He was an enigma in the most terrifying way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia supposed that must be why Hannibal likes him so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been declared dead, officially,” Bedelia said, wincing at the slight tightness she could hear in her own voice. She knew he would pick up on it. There was nothing you could hide from Will Graham.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what a dream it is, to be dead,” Will replied, a clear smile in his voice, though it was not a kind one, “though we both know I didn’t call to be told what I already know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia pulled the phone away from her face in order to take a steadying breath and another sip of her wine. She regretted answering her phone, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> you call?” she asked, closing her eyes and trying to keep her nerves from being audible in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hummed softly on the other end, as if considering what he was going to say. Bedelia knew better. She knew he had planned the conversation out with every detail. He knew what she would say, and how she would be feeling. It was one of the most disturbing things about speaking with the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to ask you a question. It has to do with our last conversation,” Will answered, his words slow and relaxed, like a sleepy snake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia waited, knowing anything she said at this point would be worthless, and only provide the man with more ammunition when he decided to begin being cruel again. Will knew what he was about to say, whether she spoke again or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, doctor Du Maurier, are you no longer a fan of conversation?” Will purred, poking at the soft spots of her armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When my company wants my input, I am more than willing to comply,” Bedelia replied curtly, “I know well enough that you do not need me to participate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed, and it was a cruel sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come now, Bedelia,” he chided, “this call is a courtesy to you. The least you could do is play along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia pressed her lips together, berating herself for answering the phone call in the first place. She hated Will Graham more than anything. She hated him more than Hannibal Lecter himself. Hannibal pried and dissected a fair amount, but Will Graham fed you the pieces of your soul and forced you to swallow the bitter flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you like to ask me?” she said after a moment, wanting to snap and shout at him, or hang up without preamble. She knew none of that would end well for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgiven</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia’s mind whirled. She didn’t know what he meant by the question, but she knew she wasn’t meant to. Will wanted her to understand, but he knew she would have to ask. He wanted to explain it to her, twisting her own thoughts to the point where she couldn’t be sure they had ever come from her mind in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What must I seek forgiveness for?” she asked, closing her eyes and focusing on keeping her tone even and unworried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will tisked softly on the other end, and Bedelia could hear a busy street around him. People, talking to each other and walking to and fro, going about their business. All unaware of what was occurring only a meter away. She couldn’t discern any words in order to try identifying a language.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are few sins I cannot forgive,” Will replied, “but taking something of </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and acting as if it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is one that I find occupies my thoughts more than others. I made my feelings about your actions </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> clear over the course of our conversations. Surely you remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had always been one thing that Will had not been able to hide his anger about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time in Florence. That time Bedelia had lived on a knife edge, fearing every action may be her last, or lead to the next that would bring her to her own destruction. Where every day had been a sequence of horrors, and to have a coherent thought of her own had been a victory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will </span>
  <em>
    <span>envied</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time Bedelia had really known Will Graham was as obsessively in love with Hannibal as the other way around, was when they had first discussed that time. There was no denying the fact that Will wished </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been the one with Hannibal, and had walked the streets of Florence by his side, ate at his table, and watched as he killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been the first thing that had Bedelia fearing for her safety after Hannibal had been imprisoned. While Will Graham had been free, Hannibal had power in the world outside of his cell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, they had both vanished, like ghosts, and she had hoped they had left all parts of their lives behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will Graham was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> jealous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What must I do to be forgiven?” Bedelia asked, unable to hide her actual curiosity and interest. She had been sure Will would kill her the first chance he had, or he would design a fate much worse for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hummed pleasantly through the phone, sounding as if he was enjoying their discussion very much. Bedelia knew he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve read your dissertation on the peculiarities of Hannibal’s behavior,” Will mused, “I thought it was a very amusing way to spin the truth in order to leave yourself blameless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia held her breath. If she had known he would read it, she would not have changed a word, but she had never thought he would contact her again, much less discuss the semantics of her work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was very careful not to mention you,” Bedelia replied, knowing it wouldn’t help, but wanting to be able to tell herself she had tried everything she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were,” he agreed, “but therein lies the problem. I think that was rather sloppy of you, doctor. You disregarded the information that would combat the point you were trying to illustrate. You can’t just ignore what you don’t like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia was afraid to find out where this was going, but she knew she didn’t have a choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was honoring the dead,” she replied, regretting it immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will laughed, and it was real that time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we both know, even if I were dead, I don’t deserve that,” he pointed out, sounding amused, “but I do thank you for the consideration. I want you to write a new one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia grit her teeth together. It was a habit she had not had since she was a child, but of course, in the face of Will Graham, it reappeared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you have me say?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, Doctor? I say ‘jump’, and you say ‘how high’? I expected more from you,” Will mocked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will Graham had never been the demure, shy man with Bedelia, but he had certainly grown even more cruel and confident in his new life. Whatever that may be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe earning your forgiveness is likely the only way to ensure my survival,” Bedelia replied coldly, “so why would I argue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will clicked his tongue sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” he said, “I want you to write about Hannibal, but concerning me. I would like to hear what you think about our… </span>
  <em>
    <span>peculiar</span>
  </em>
  <span> relationship. Remember, I’ll know if you lie just to appease me, but I want you to be as polite as you are capable. I seem to remember you are able to be quite agreeable when given the proper motivation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia bit her tongue until she knew she was just about to taste blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would have me reveal your true nature to the world?” Bedelia asked cautiously, sure it was a trap of some sort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> my true nature,” Will replied quickly, “at least not all of it. I want to see things the way you do, or at least the way you tell yourself you see them. I’ll contact you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The call ended, and Bedelia set her phone down. She poured herself another glass of wine, settling in to consider her position in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to publish this?” Jack demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia pressed her lips together. She looked like she was frustrated, but also afraid of something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe my previous dissertation can be improved on, in regards to the relationship between Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham,” she replied calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack frowned. He had made sure to be alerted of anything publicly dealing with either man, and this had thrown up several flags, being about both of them. He didn’t want anything being said unless he heard it first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s impression of Bedelia when he had met her in Florence was that she had been allowing herself to be manipulated, even so far as facilitating her own brainwashing, in order to stay alive. She had willfully lied and been lied to, to the point where truth no longer had any value or discerning quality in her mind. She was far removed from the dignified and intelligent woman he had first asked about her peculiar patient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman he saw now was one who had survived the lion pit, only to preach of her own virtues in being able to do so. She had capitalized on the market of Hannibal Lecter being a serial killer, and was nearly as cutthroat about it as Chilton. The difference being that she was relatively physically intact, and anyone would be hard pressed to identify anything actually wrong with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor Du Maurier, have either Will Graham or Hannibal Lecter contacted you in </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> way since their disappearance?” Jack asked, staring her down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a slight movement of her lips, and she met his gaze with equal seriousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have both been declared dead,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For convenience sake, and in order to avoid inciting a panic, they have been,” he agreed, “but I would like to know if there is any reason that should be reconsidered or amended.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia didn’t reply right away. She studied Jack for a moment, perhaps remembering what she had thought of him upon their first meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I had been contacted by a serial killer at large, do you think I would have kept it to myself long enough to write this entire work before you discovered it?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack smiled wryly. He didn’t really want to play this game with her. He didn’t want to play it with anyone, but he could tell she wouldn’t say anything directly. She would be vague in everything, and he would have to read between the lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re just clever enough to have kept it to yourself, knowing I would find out eventually. You have a talent for surviving serial killers, and I’m willing to bet you would do this if you thought it would help you get out again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack watched Bedelia as he spoke, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She didn’t betray a single thought. It was times like this he wished he had the same ability Will Graham had. Will always managed to know what others were thinking and feeling without them giving any indication Jack could discern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Jack continued, “You’re aware I’m no longer part of the FBI, so there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>legally</span>
  </em>
  <span> nothing I can do, no matter what you may or may not tell me today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am also aware you are capable of taking my words and using them to go after someone if you believe they are still at large,” she said, “which may or may not lead them back to me after a time. With my reputation for self-preservation, do you think I am likely to take that risk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack couldn’t help the smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then there is nothing you can say, and nothing I can do,” he surmised, watching Bedelia for a reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bedelia smiled faintly as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would certainly seem that way, mister Crawford,” she replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal walked out onto the balcony, taking in a deep breath of the saltwater air. The early morning sky was lighting up in reds and golds as the sun crossed the horizon, and he smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will was sitting in one of the leisure chairs, his shirt open and a wide-brimmed hat on his head. Hannibal studied him for a moment, content just to drink in the sight for the time being. Will was beautiful, and Hannibal adored the times he was able to see all his scars. The one across his abdomen still brought back memories of unfortunate times, but every scar was a reminder of steps they had taken to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal walked over and draped himself over the back of the chair, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders and looking down at what Will was reading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this, darling?” Hannibal asked, seeing that the article included both of their names, but it didn’t seem to be from any news source.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled softly and kissed Hannibal before he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A new paper. This one is all about us,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal caught the note of pride in Will’s tone, and he plucked the article from Will’s hands to take a closer look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bedelia wrote this,” Hannibal noted, raising an eyebrow, “despite having just published a dissertation detailing my ‘intrinsic psychosis’. I had thought she was content to leave the matter alone for some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hummed, taking the paper back to continue reading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was,” he agreed, “but her survival instincts are something to be admired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Understanding broke over Hannibal, and he laughed softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you envious of the attention I had received?” he asked, nuzzling into Will’s hair contentedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in the least,” he said, and Hannibal could tell he was being mostly truthful, “I wouldn’t do you the disservice. You’ve earned the spotlight, sweetheart. I was curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal hummed, reading the article from where his chin was perched on Will’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curious to see what she thought of you?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curious to see what she thinks of</span>
  <em>
    <span> us</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Will corrected, “I thought her dissertation was entertaining, but lacked any real evidence. I wanted to see if she would be honest, and what she has fooled herself into believing about the dynamic between us. I have always thought she likely has the closest idea of the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will’s pulse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you find everything satisfactory?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will shrugged and tossed the papers onto the table at his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing there is new to me,” he answered, “I had hoped she would be a bit more clever about it all, but she earned her forgiveness well enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal raised an eyebrow again as Will stood and faced him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever must you forgive her for?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stepped up and pushed Hannibal against the door that led back into their chateau.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For taking my place,” he growled, “and taking you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal pulled Will closer by the open flaps of his shirt, leaning in to nip along Will’s jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is not entirely to blame, darling,” he reminded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will bit Hannibal’s ear, hard enough to hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he said quietly, “and I intend to punish you as well. Hers had to come first. Now that it’s complete, Doctor, what would </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do to be forgiven?”</span>
</p>
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